


Post Time

by FireAwayy



Series: Pendragon Racing [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, Consensual, F/F, F/M, Horses, M/M, and underappreciated, arthur might regret his decision, gwaine keeps popping up because i love his sass ass, hiring merlin for dat ass, iiiiiittttssss race time, percy is awesome, racing horses, smut is coming i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 15:39:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireAwayy/pseuds/FireAwayy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the cards on the table...it's time for Merlin to prove himself as a jockey but is Lady of the Lake the right horse to do it? Did Arthur make a huge mistake because he can't stop staring at Merlin's ass? Will Uther disown Arthur for going behind his back? And when the horses cross the finish line...where will Arthur and Merlin's relationship stand?</p><p>AND WILL GWAINE EVER ASK PERCY OUT?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Post Time

**Author's Note:**

> Second part of this Universe and the first racing scene. I myself (being 5'10") have never raced a horse. I have exercised them and ridden them my entire life, been in the gates loading them and watched a lot of youtube videos so I tried to write the experience as it would be felt without clogging it up with so many adjectives we all explode. 
> 
> As before I've tried to make this fic as accurate as physically possible but I have taken some liberties with Merlin and such. I know there wasn't much sassitude in the part but it's coming. Merlin will lose his shyness. 
> 
> Congratulatory blowjobs are NOT out of the question ;)
> 
> Also, there will be some Gwaine/Percy because I can't not. It'll be a side pairing. It will be all fluff and adorableness. Angst goes to Merthur. 
> 
> As usual, COMMENT like and share! :) if you have any criticisms or questions hit me up you fabulous mofos.

“Gwaaaainnneeeee.” Merlin moaned his head resting against the metal locker with eyes screwed shut. 

Gwaine laughed running his fingers through his hair. He was wearing the pale green polo shirt of a track worker. Gwaine usually worked the gates, helping load horses and making sure things ran smoothly but today he was valeting for Merlin. And supposedly providing emotional support. 

“Meeeerrrllliiiinnn. You’ll be fine. Just stretch or something.” Gwaine was wiping down Merlin’s boots, his hands almost as big as the tiny boots. The patent leather gleamed in the florescent lighting as the man’s big calloused hands slipped around them. 

“What if I fuck up?” 

Gwaine shrugged and put the boot down. “Then you’re back where you started, chilling out with me. How could that be a bad thing?” 

Merlin grinned and stood up stretching his long pale arms above his head. His white breeches were clinging to his hips tucked into long white socks. The white under armour tank he wore showed off his lean body as Gwaine handed him the Pendragon Racing silks. The long sleeved shirt slid over Merlin’s slim shoulders and buttoned up. Even when tucked in the shirt was baggy and hanging off his body. The silks were a crimson red with a golden lion emblazoned on the back. 

Gwaine cocked his head. “You look good, son.” He said enjoying the figure Merlin cut all dolled up in his silks. Merlin’s pale skin and dark hair was a good contrast.  
Merlin smiled and ducked his head looking into the small mirror in his locker. He had dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep the night before. Merlin had spent three hours looking at all of Freya’s races, then her competitor’s races. While this particular race was nothing spectacular, a $10,000 stakes race, Merlin knew it would mean his future. 

Gwaine left him for a moment and Merlin took this opportunity to take a deep breath and center himself. Freya was more than capable of winning this race. He crossed himself, finding Religion on the track with the fellow Jockeys…most of whom were a direct import from Mexico and deeply religious. Merlin wasn’t as deeply religious as some but it couldn’t hurt to try. 

He slipped on the shiny boots and flipped the helmet over to settle over his wayward hair, buckling just under his angular chin. 

When Merlin stepped out into the lounge the other jockeys mostly ignored him—he was a newbie and nothing worth noticing, not yet anyway. He was no threat and no friend. 

Merlin intended to change that. 

He pulled the door to the lounge open and stepped out into the saddling area. The saddling area was twelve large open ended stalls with a large number on the back. Each horse received its number beforehand and was saddled and prepped for the race in this area, then the horse would walk forward onto a dirt circle where the jockeys would mount up and head for the race track. This was an opportunity for fans and spectators to get a good look at the horses they were planning on betting on. 

Merlin reached into the cooler by the door and pulled out a bottle of water, chugging it quickly before tossing the empty in the bin. He looked up just as the first outrider, on his bright chestnut leading the horses to be saddled. There were only eight horses in this race and all of them experienced. Besides some jigging and the occasional head toss the horses were quiet as the process began. 

George was leading Freya, the third horse to come into the saddling paddock. Leon was behind him and Lance, Leon’s assistant trainer, was with him talking animatedly. Leon caught sight of Merlin and waved, his smile relaxed and confident. Merlin found himself smiling back and relaxing a little. He looked over at Freya and tried to judge her attitude today: her eyes were bright as she took in the surrounding crowd, ears flicked back and forth, head held high, but she was far from panicking. Her muscles were tight with anticipation but not stress as the adrenaline coursed through her body. Merlin’s small saddle was thrown up onto her back and cinched down tight, Freya only flicking her ears to register the light weight resting on her back. 

Leon stepped into the paddock area and gestured for Merlin to do the same. The other jockeys, a small armada of miniature men, lining up to speak to trainers and owners about how to ride the horses. 

Leon wrapped a heavy arm around Merlin’s shoulder and brought him in close. “All right, Merls. Freya knows her stuff, she’s raced all up and down this coast. She’s not afraid to get in close, but don’t get her boxed in on the rail she’ll just shut down. Don’t hit her in front of shoulder she hates that and it just distracts her. She’s got an engine on her but she won’t last so hold her steady then let her fly.” Leon squeezed Merlin’s shoulder good naturedly. “When it comes down to it Merlin, let her run her race.” 

Merlin nodded and blinked sweat out of his eyes. He glanced over at the fence line where Arthur stood. His arms were crossed and his blue eyes narrowed as he watched the horses. The sunlight glinted off his golden hair, his black suit immaculate despite the heat of the day. 

Mildly put Arthur was gorgeous with his sunglasses gripped loosely in one hand and his out of place suit. But it wasn’t just his beauty that drew Merlin’s eye and his focus away…it was the confidence he radiated and the way he looked over at Merlin with a small crooked smirk and a wink. 

Arthur completely trusted him. 

 

Arthur was fucked. In fact he was just about ready to call everything off and put Cenred back on Freya. Merlin was jittering like a high school boy about to see his first porn. Freya was looking calm and centered which was a blessing in this ridiculous scheme of Arthurs. 

Who thought it was a good idea to put tall, lanky untried jockey on a mare who had been losing and thought things would work out? 

Why had he done this? Oh yeah. Because Merlin was good looking and had a perky ass that did manly things to Arthur. 

Arthur groaned and put on a good face. He made a decision and despite his brain screaming things at his dick, and his dick screaming right back his gut told him this was a good decision. 

The horses were brought out—different shades of red, bay and grey. Their bodies glowed in the sun and the taut lines of their muscles stretched and flexed as the pranced and jostled their handlers. 

Freya was one of the more beautiful horses in the paddock, her long lean legs keeping pace as she waited to be mounted. The call went up. Leon kneeled and cupped his hands swinging Merlin’s lithe body into the saddle. Merlin settled with his long legs hanging on either side of Freya’s sides. She tossed her head and jumped forward, excitement coursing through her body. Merlin leaned forward and ran his hand along her neck, soothing her wave of adrenaline. Freya settled under his touch and Merlin gathered up the thick rubber reins, loosely holding them as he slipped his feet into the tiny stirrups. His knees hovered by his belly as he perched above Freya’s muscular back. 

The horses were led to the track in their starting positions and Arthur followed them over, making his way into the Pendragon’s private racing box. Close to twenty men and women stood with drinks in their hands, mingling and chatting as they waited for the horses to come into view. Uther had his hands clasped behind his back facing the giant plate glass window as the horses came into view. Arthur could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was angry. 

Arthur grabbed a beer and stepped up beside his father. 

Uther had always been a good looking man, he had aged well and still radiated power and confidence. The salting of grey and white in his hair only served to make him look more dignified and impressive. 

“Would you like to tell me why there’s a stable boy on my horse, Arthur?” 

Arthur stiffened and took a swig of beer. “Merlin is a fine jockey, Father.” 

Uther released a long breath and looked at his son. “Cenred is a fine jockey, one who has raced for us hundreds of times to hundreds of victories. That boy is a nothing but an exercise rider.” 

Arthur felt a wave of anger envelop him. “Father, I made a decision I believed to be best. When you bred Freya you bred for a champion…but has she been a champion Father?” Uther was silent and listening, a rare occasion and Arthur planned to take full advantage of it. 

“Cenred’s a brute in the saddle, you know that. It’s one of the reason you put him on your horses but Father…it’s not working. Don’t pretend you don’t see it Father, there’s a reason you’re one of the best horsemen around.” 

Uther was silent for a long moment. Long enough for sweat to run down Arthur’s back and panic to creep in. Arthur wouldn’t put it past his father to have him thrown out of the box. 

Uther remained silent. 

 

Merlin gave a nod of thanks as George handed the lead over to Pendragon Racing’s Pony rider, if you could call him that. Percy was a hulking man well above six feet tall with a barrel chest and arms that could rival that of a tree trunk. His ‘pony’ was called Hammer, a pure bred Percheron hovering right around 18 hands with a body that shook the ground when he cantered. Uther had bought Hammer, with Percy tagging along because Hammer took shit from no horse. Hammer ruled the track and had no time for silly antics. Needless to say his imperial attitude earned him many treats. Gwaine swore Hammer had the Eyebrow of Disapproval like Gaius. 

Percy took the lead and urged Hammer forward in a steady walk despite Freya’s prancing. “Feeling ready?” Percy asked his smile present, as always. 

Merlin laughed nervously. “Feel better now that I’m in the saddle.” 

Percy nodded and watched as the outrider urged everyone into an easy canter for a warmup. As the horses cantered down the track Freya made several attempts to bolt ahead but Percy and Hammers unyielding strength kept her in check. 

They approached the gate, painted a deep hunter green with the numbers above the shoots in their respective colors. 

Percy kept them walking in a large looping circle while the other horses loaded. Merlin watched as number four caused some trouble but eventually stepped in quietly. Percy relinquished his lead to the gate worker and shot Merlin a wink which surprisingly helped settle Merlin’s nerves. 

Merlin gave Freya a gentle tap on her flank to guide her into the gate, Freya didn’t need it as she walked straight in. The mare gave a tap with her nose to test the gate in front of her. She snorted and shifted from side to side waiting for that moment where they’d open. 

He reached down and ran his fingers through her mane, tickling gently to give her a little reassurance as he took up the slack in his reins. Merlin adjusted himself above Freya and grabbed a thicket of mane. 

The gate was cramped and the adrenaline running through Merlin’s veins made him hyper aware: every snort, neigh, bang against the metal and curse made Merlin jump. He blinked and moved his goggles over his eyes and licked his dry lips watching the gate master as he waited for each horse to be settled. 

The gate sprang open with the clang of a bell. 

Freya gathered herself and sprung forward with a jerk of muscles and power. 

Merlin clenched every muscle in his body and went with Freya’s as she cleared the gate an got up to sixty miles an hour within three strides. Her body flowed beneath Merlin as his arms followed her swinging head. Dirt splattered against his face and body, air rushing past his ears as Freya ate up the ground. 

Two horses parted in front of Merlin on the outside and he guided Freya towards it. Freya saw her opening and grabbed the bit, slinking through like panther and not a Thoroughbred racing at close to sixty miles an hour. 

Merlin closed his fingers and eased Freya up, to her dismay. He was sitting in sixth place right now but Freya was nowhere near her top speed. Leon’s words rang through his head as Freya raced the mile long race, and he kept her from being boxed in. Even with Merlin holding her back Freya moved to third easily as the rounded the final turn. 

That was it. The moment where everything just fell into place and Merlin felt this moment of clarity. 

He loosened the reins and that was all it took, Freya grabbed the bit and surged forward overtaking the two horses before her with no effort at all. Merlin left his whip firmly held in his hand and Freya kicked up dirt behind her, head jerking forward as she pulled herself forward. 

Light flashed in Merlin’s eyes as they crossed the finish. He sat up and gently began to ease Freya back, a process that would take half a track. His fingers ran up along her neck gently scratching as she snorted and took in air, her head held high as she examined the throng of people standing and clapping. They trotted back to the stands and Merlin ripped his goggles off to look at the screen. 

There, digitalized for the world to see: 

1\. Lady of the Lake, Pendragon Racing with Merlin Emrys in the tack

Merlin whooped and grinned as Gwaine hooked up the lead to Freya’s bit and used a wet sponge to get the mud off her face. Merlin patted Freya exuberantly and lifted his whip above his head to the roar of the crowd. He caught Arthurs 100 watt grin and felt his cheeks flush as he returned the smile. 

Gwaine led them to the winners circle where pictures were snapped and congratulations were handed all around. Merlin dismounted and took his tack towards the scale, where he made weight by five pounds. Gwaine had handed Freya over to George and took Merlin’s tack after giving him a quick hard hug and a sloppy kiss on his cheek. 

Arthur approached Merlin and they fell in stride walking back towards the Jockey’s Lounge together. 

“Some fine riding, Merlin. I’m sorry I doubted you.” 

Merlin turned beet red. “You doubted me? But I thought…” he gestured to the silks. “I thought you said…” 

Arthur shrugged and laughed. “Like 65% sure you wouldn’t fuck it up completely.” He said as his phone buzzed with a text. 

The text from Uther read: Looks like we have a new jockey. Good work Arthur.

Arther grinned and dragged Merlin into a hug, right in the middle of the tunnel where the crowd could see them. 

Merlin made some squawking noise. “Your suit!” he said muffled as the mud from the race smeared all over the dark fabric. Arthur laughed and hugged him tighter, taking a selfish moment to feel Merlin’s hard muscular body pressed against him, the smell of dirt horse and sweat mingled with Merlin’s natural smell and Arthur found himself attempting to memorize that smell. 

Arthur leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Merlin’s cherry red cheek. “I think we’re going to do great things Merlin. Now go get changed…we have a lot to talk about.” 

Merlin glared up at him in that strange way of his, his eyes flashing in color for a brief moment. “Bossy.” He said exasperated. 

But he was grinning when he turned around.


End file.
